As a family, we were drawn to the water this weekend. We soaked in the purity of it, marveled at the mangroves, delighted in the fish that swam around our bare feet.
Never, for a moment, did we take the water for granted. Never, for an instant, did we forget the peril and suffering in our sister waters of the Gulf.
Our son said, "Now, this, this is real Florida," and he was right.
As I watched him balance almost effortlessly on a stand-up paddle board, I imagined the Intracoastal Waterway completely free of boats and jet skis and picnic people. I pictured a young Native American, our son's age, silently gliding along crystal-clear water centuries ago. For a moment, all pollution, all noise, all sorrow melted away in the sparkling sunlight. I witnessed a glimpse of our blessed earth as it was meant to be seen and cherished....
My heart spilled forth waves of gratitude, and I prayed my OceanPrayer.
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